


Through the Rift - Part One

by ladydragon76



Series: Through the Rift [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:46:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1408786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Sucked into a rift in the fabric of space-time, Soundwave and Bluestreak stumble across one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Rift - Part One

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** Through the Rift  
>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Characters:** Soundwave, Bluestreak  
>  **Warnings:** AU like whoa, Zombie Mechs, Violence, Angst, Making Robots Cry  
>  **Notes:** This is two old RP entry things that I decided to combine, edit, and add to, to make a fic out of it because I just love both. Been meaning to do this for a while, so here it is. Hope others enjoy too!  
>  **Notes 2.0:** After getting some really awesome concrit from readers, and some seriously epic idea bouncing and outlining help from NK to work out the end of this piece AND rest of the series (In fact it's a whole series now _because_ of NK), I’ve gone back and completely revamped the end of this. It should be better now. ^_^

Regaining consciousness was slow and painful. Soundwave remained perfectly still, optics off as he took stock of damage and absorbed as much of his surroundings as possible.

Instinctively he reached out to his creations. He ran cold at the emptiness that met his mental probe. Forgetting himself momentarily, his optics snapped open, and he gasped as the static cleared from his vision.

Above him was a kaleidoscope of colorful light. He sat up, abruptly recalling the wound the Autobot had given him in his side as pain flashed out. Soundwave cycled his respiration, attempting to regain control over the panting in his vents, and let his optics roam.

It was nothing short of breath-taking. The Crystal Gardens of Praxus would have wept in envy. And as he calmed, Soundwave realized that the ringing in his audials was not damage, but the breeze chiming through the crystalline plants and trees.

He ignored the discomfort of his wound in favor of inspecting his immediate surroundings. The ground beneath him felt organic. Dirt, moss, nothing exceptional beyond the fact he had been knocked offline on Cybertron. The nearest plant however, was a new discovery. Where the root and veins of the leaves seemed to be organic, reedy like an Earth fern, the leaves themselves were crystal, each glowing faintly, and clinking musically as he brushed his fingertip along the underside.

He moved to his knees to reach up to touch the branch above his head, and was again reminded of the wound. Wincing, Soundwave removed his medkit from his subspace. The damage was not extensive, just in an inconveniently sensitive spot on his side, low, just over his hip armor. A lucky shot.

Soundwave indulged himself in a derisive snort. It had been a skilled shot.

Patched up, and certain of his self-repair being able to handle the cosmetic damage, he focused on the larger issue. Where was he? And where were his creations? Why could he not feel them? And more immediately, where was the Autobot?

He sent out a mental probe, it was a long shot, but had paid off before.

Unfortunately, this time, a backlash of energy slammed into his mind. He did not even feel as his wound tore open when he crashed back to the ground, unconscious once again.

~ | ~

The pounding, throbbing pain in his head woke Soundwave, and he groaned before fully gaining control over himself. He forced himself to remain still and silent after that, listening carefully, taking stock of his injuries.

Hours had passed according to his chronometer, and his wound had not fared well in the fall he had taken. Energon was down eight percent more than it should be given the time that had passed, and the wound was still seeping. He could feel the slide of warm energon slowly running over an internal sensor node. External proximity sensors returned nothing but fluctuating readings that were in all likelihood the crystalline plants around him bouncing the signal.

Soundwave cautiously booted his optics, and winced as the light cut straight to his processor. He had not had a headache this bad since he first learned how to control his telepathy. He had to get away from the crystals. They were possibly what was keeping him from sensing his creations. They were all well trained, so they would do what he was planning to do. Get to an area they could transmit from, and contact him.

He sat carefully, pushing away the thought that even when they had been across the galaxy from each other, he’d been able to sense his creations. It was the crystals. He would get free of them, and then the feedback would be gone.

First, however, he needed to see to his injury again. Closing the tear had not been easy the first time. This time, with the near blinding headache and his hands shaking, it was even more difficult, and was taking longer than Soundwave had hoped it would. Frustrated with himself, he growled as the line slipped through his fingers yet again. He grabbed it, gritting his teeth against the pain as his thumb joint was wedged against a sensor node when he pinched the line to be sure he would not lose his grip again.

Finally finished, he slouched to the side and panted as the pain settled into a dull throbbing ache. Soundwave cycled his respiration a few times and relaxed, calming and centering himself. He had some spare -hoarded if he were honest- energon in his subspace. Decepticon success on raids being sketchy at best, he had long ago taken to stashing an extra cube or two when able. There wasn’t much in his subspace. He and the Cassetticons could survive for approximately a decacycle on what he had on hand.

Hopefully the twins had stored away some, and actually _left_ it stored this time. One cube was enough to keep all five of them fueled for an entire day if they weren’t in combat or recording. Soundwave knew Rumble and Frenzy though, and he had to admit chances were slim either of them had kept the energon. It was too easy for the Decepticons to celebrate the victories instead of remaining on rations.

In fact-

Soundwave reached into his subspace, putting away the medkit, and reaching for where he kept the energon.

There.

He pulled out a deep purple cube. High grade. Megatron had insisted, so Soundwave had taken it, but as soon as Megatron had turned away, Soundwave had slipped the cube into his subspace.

He gazed at it for a moment, watching the energy sparkle and shift within the cube. It would be the boost to his systems that he needed, and if he took just a little more than he needed, it might even dull the pain in his side enough that he could begin his search now.

Soundwave retracted his mask, and sipped the high grade. And nearly choked.

That was awful! Tarmanthian slugs didn’t taste that bad!

It did, however, jolt his systems almost as soon as the first swallow hit his tank. Bracing himself, Soundwave gulped a mouthful, shuddering, the back of his free hand pressing to his mouth.

 _How do they drink this slag?_ It was a damn good thing he had never tried it in public. He never would have lived this reaction down.

Not at all sure that his tank wouldn’t rebel, he took one more mouthful, swallowing hard, and gasping, optics shut tight as he fought to control the urge to spit the vile concoction right back out.

Soundwave subspaced the rest, a little more than half a cube, and checked his systems, putting a priority marker on his self-repair, and then lying back on the ground for a couple breems to let the planet stop whirling around him. Closing his optics was worse, so he stared up at the glowing leaves tinkling in the breeze above him.

He would have liked to just fly up through them, get a view around, see what being over the trees did for his telepathy and sensors, but with the injury, and not knowing where he was and if he could risk using the extra energon, the prudent option was to stay on the ground for now. Soundwave sighed, and sat up once more. The ground tipped, but righted itself quickly enough, and his tank did not roll, so he deemed it safe to close his mask.

Mindful of his injury, Soundwave climbed to his feet, the lowest branch now optic level. He reached out to touch it, feeling the organic bark, tapping the crystal leaves and making them chime. He bit at his lip, and dared to pluck a leaf from the tree.

Nothing happened, and the leaf continued to glow merrily between his finger and thumb.

Intrigued, Soundwave tucked it in subspace and looked around. He could discern nothing that would give him a direction to go. No trail or path. There was nothing but the gentle breeze making the forest sing. There was magnetic North, but he could not even see the sky.

Finding no logical direction to travel in, Soundwave turned east on a whim and began walking. He plucked samples here and there, leaves or flowers he found particularly appealing, and set them in his subspace for later study. A few hours later the forest around him began to dim. Another hour and he was able to detect a slight rise in the temperature and a different sort of light directly ahead. Less than an hour after that, Soundwave knew that wherever he was, the sun had risen and it was morning.

He paused only for a small break, a small cluster of crystal points catching his attention as he sat and leaned back against a tree trunk to rest. He collected them, the pale golden glow brightening as he cupped the cluster in his hands. After choking down another mouthful of the high grade, and cleaning the area of his wound better, Soundwave moved on, continuing until the sun set and the forest began to glow around him again.

Soundwave curled up between two roots with his back pressed to the tree on his uninjured side. He had seen no other living creatures at all, and was in desperate need of recharge. Given his two bouts of unconsciousness without being attacked, it was a risk he would simply have to take.

Exhaustion pulled him under even as he reached unsuccessfully for his creations.

~ | ~

Soundwave woke the same way he had dropped into recharge, reaching for his sparklings and feeling a cold void instead.

_It is the crystals._

He took stock of himself, checking the wound, and pleased with the healing. The high grade was dreadful and he shied mentally from the thought of consuming any more of it, but it was helping him keep his energy levels up despite having his self-repair work constantly on the injury. A few more days and he should be fully recovered.

It had been a lucky shot. Lucky for him.

Soundwave sat up and forced himself to drink more high grade, wondering where the Autobot was. He had been deep in an exhausted and healing recharge. Had he been found, he could easily have been dispatched.

He stopped himself from trying to connect with his creations again. The crystals were somehow blocking his telepathy. No matter how many times he reached out, he would fail. Torturing himself would only hurt his morale, and he was already too much at risk by simply being alone.

None, not even his creations, knew how desperately Soundwave hated being alone. Old, _very_ old fear and trauma. It would not cripple him, he would not allow that, but reaching when his telepathy was blocked would only be prodding at an old scar.

He stood, stretched and flexed while keeping in mind his wound, then began to walk east again. The sun was invisible but for its light shining through the crystals. The breeze settled in the late morning, the air becoming still and fairly warm. Soundwave continued on his easterly path, stepping around the plants, picking more samples when they caught his optic.

It was midafternoon when he heard a new sound. He increased his audial gain, and listened.

Water. Moving water.

Soundwave followed the sound, increasing his audials as needed until he was certain. It was a large stream, perhaps even a small river, and crossed his path on an angle from the north.

As the sounds of the river grew louder, the forest began to thin around him. Blue sky became visible for the first time, and Soundwave felt the relief of a tension he had not realized he was holding. He smiled beneath his mask, stepping forward a little faster, and spotting the river sparkling under the sunlight across an open meadow.

He stepped from the shade-line into the sun and turned, soaking up the feeling of direct sun on his plating. He even retracted his mask and visor, letting his optics shut. He would never admit it out loud, but he had loved that about Earth. The brightness and warmth of the sun was something he tried to indulge in whenever possible. Often under the guise of getting his creations out of the Victory so they could wreak havoc elsewhere. Given the last bout of pranks from a bored Rumble and Frenzy, permission was not difficult to attain.

Soundwave smiled as he remembered the look on Megatron’s face.

_“Detected: a buildup of restlessness in Rumble and Frenzy. Permission to surface and spend the day on shore?”_

_Megatron’s optics had widened for only a nanoklik before he covered with a frown, but in that nanoklik he’d been genuinely unsettled. “Granted. However, I expect their behavior to be model when you return.”_

_Soundwave had dipped his chin, and left with five giddy Cassetticons in his chest compartment. Understanding good behavior afterwards would gain them permission to go out again, even Frenzy and Rumble had behaved rather well. For a few days._

The smile faltered, and Soundwave replaced his masks, the meadow was surrounded by the forest still, but he could no longer resist the urge to try. He reached out, hoping, but met the void. Soundwave had tried to brace himself, logically he knew he would not reach them yet, but it still caused his spark to squeeze.

He walked to the river, and knelt down, scanning it and getting mostly glitched readings. It was water. Pure and clean, but that was all he could tell. Even temperature readings came back garbled. To the touch it was crisp and cool, but that knowledge didn’t help his scanners.

Soundwave sighed softly, reaching into his subspace for a cloth and dipping it in the river. He would have submerged himself to wash off the battle dust and grime from recharging on the ground, but he didn’t want to risk it yet. Instead he carefully cleaned around the wound, then set about washing himself off. Afterwards he crossed the river, the deepest part only coming to mid-thigh. He only just thought better of vibrating himself dry with his harmonics. That could just as easily rip the tear in that line open again or short something out.

Frowning, he wiped off as much water as he could and set off again, casting one last look back up at the sun before he reached the tree line.

A gasp of shock escaped and Soundwave stared up at the sky.

Twin, white suns hung a few hours above setting. To the right of the suns, rings and a large planet faded into the blue of the sky. But most shocking was a gash of black in the blue. As though some angry god had slashed a blade through the azure fabric of the sky and the black night showed in the gaping wound.

Soundwave came back to himself, his respiration loud, audible over the river and the tinkling chime of the forest in the breeze that caressed the meadow. He was clutching a branch tightly, quite literally needing it to remain on his feet.

“Where am I?”

~ | ~

Over the next four days Soundwave continued to walk and heal. He had run out of high grade the night before, but it had served him well. The wound was all but healed, no longer pained him, and he still had approximately two weeks’ worth of energon for himself and his creations.

When he found them.

He continued east, tempted now more than ever to risk a short flight up above the trees.

He did not look up anymore. The gash in the sky was unsettling in a way Soundwave could not articulate even to himself. Not that he had anyone else to articulate to.

That thought made him shudder, and he hunkered down against a tree trunk as the forest took on its nighttime glow, his arms wrapped in a self-hug over his chest. He had taken to singing with the crystals just to fill the air with some sound other than that of the forest. There were no animals that he had spotted other than the fish-like bioluminescent vertebrates in a pond he had come across.

Curious, and trying to keep his mind occupied, Soundwave caught one in the empty and cleaned high grade cube, then tucked it in his subspace. A quick check about a breem later showed it was still alive and seemingly happy to swim around in the cube, he replaced it and moved on.

Calming himself, he pulled the fish out now, and set it on the ground before him. It swam this way and that, gliding along the edges of the cube, up and down, graceful and mellow. Soundwave watched the soft red and purple glow, letting the turmoil in his mind settle, and centering himself.

It was becoming harder to do. He missed his creations. Missed hearing them laugh and watching them play. Missed their touch upon his mind. Missed the feel of them warm near his spark as he recharged.

Soundwave’s hands fisted, and he clenched his jaw. Pits, he even missed the random mental chatter of the other Decepticons.

He drew a shuddering breath, and sat straighter, optics shut as he narrowed his focus again. When he opened them, he let his gaze rest on the fish, its movements helping to lull him. When the thoughts and memories came, he acknowledged them and let go, bringing his attention back to the fish again and again until he could finally sit and just watch it with his mind blank.

Soundwave put the fish away, and sipped at some energon, drinking only enough to keep his self-repair working at optimum through the night, then lay down. He curled up, feeling empty and alone despite his efforts to ignore it and simply recharge.

~ | ~

Days were beginning to run together. Three more passed, and Soundwave walked ever eastward.

It was the nights that were difficult though. When he stopped walking, and stopped singing, and the forest glowed so beautifully, but he couldn’t appreciate that beauty anymore.

The fish died, its glow fading before Soundwave’s optics as he fought to still his shaking and bring his respiration under control. The sobs broke free, and he curled in on himself, knees coming up and twisting to the side to press himself against the tree as his frame was wracked, and all control lost. He screamed over the link to this creations, but the void was silent.

And the fish was dead.

~ | ~

Soundwave woke later than usual the following morning. He had slipped down to the ground after losing consciousness, but facing the tree, rather than out. He sat and turned quickly, the thought of his back exposed to attackers jolting him.

He froze almost instantly at the sight that greeted him. The fish was still dead, but now the cube lay on its side, the ground having soaked up the water, the fish carcass half eaten by the unusual creature that was now as still as Soundwave.

It stared at him, and he stared right back.

Where had it come from? He had not heard nor seen any sign of any animals at all. Occasionally he thought he heard a bird warble, but the crystal refracted all sounds so quickly, their chiming and singing absorbing all else.

“What are you?” he whispered, and the creature’s head tipped to the side. “You are consuming my fish.”

The sound the creature made was something of a trill-warble.

Soundwave’s optics widened. That was the bird sound. He carefully reached forward and lifted the empty high grade cube, the creature watching him warily with large eyes that held a slight green glow. Soundwave kept his movements as smooth as he could, and put the cube back in his subspace. The creature took a half step forward, head cocking back and forth, that warble-trill sounding again.

“You may have the fish. The cube is mine.”

Not wishing to frighten the creature, Soundwave rose slowly and stepped sideways away from it. With one last look to the creature and his half-eaten fish, Soundwave turned away, and began walking. He pulled the cloth from his subspace, removing his visor and cleaning the inside, then retracting his mask to wipe his face clean.

Shame made his face hot to the touch, and he hurried to get the visor clipped back into its dock and closed his mask. It did not matter that no one had seen him break down, he knew, and it was humiliating. Even his creations had not wept like that in a few thousand vorn.

He was a disgrace of a Decepticon.

~ | ~

Soundwave traveled for another two full days before he finally found another meadow with a clear view of the sky late morning of the third. The gash was as unsettling as ever, but it was time. He _needed_ to see above the trees. Maybe it would even be worth flying to the edge of the forest.

It couldn’t go on forever.

He prayed it didn’t go on forever.

It felt like it went on forever.

Soundwave kicked off, engaging his antigravs and rose up above the trees. They stretched out to the horizon before him, and a small sound of distress escaped his vocalizer. He turned, and nearly dropped to the ground in relief. South of his position, perhaps a day’s walk was the border. The land shifted from shining trees, to green meadow, and then on to something darker, that he couldn’t quite see, but the forest ended.

He would be able to use his telepathy.

He only just barely resisted trying now, but dropping due to the feedback from this height would damage him severely.

Soundwave returned to the ground, deciding that walking would use less fuel than flying. He set off, his step faster than usual, hope pulsing in his spark. Tonight. Tonight he should be clear enough of the crystals’ field, and be able to reach his creations.

They must be so worried about him.

~ | ~

It was later in the night than Soundwave had anticipated by the time he reached the edge of the forest. He’d pushed a couple hours beyond what he usually did, the glow of the plants aiding his sight, but his reserves growing low, and making him feel hungry by the time he stepped out beneath the clear night sky.

Stars shone overhead, that gash far less visible. Three moons stretched across the black backdrop in various stages of their cycles. Soundwave walked out into the meadow, and then kept walking, wanting to put as much distance as he could between himself and the forest’s edge. He needed to be sure he was far enough away so the interference would not affect his telepathy anymore.

Hunger finally drove him to pause at some point in the middle of the night, or perhaps it was the dark hours of morning. He did not know, nor did he care. He could still see the light of the forest behind him, so he wasn’t far enough away.

Soundwave sat and finished the second half of the cube he had the previous morning. Exhaustion pulled at him, but he forced himself back to his feet and walked.

Behind him, in the distance he heard a warble-trill.

~ | ~

Fear drove him as he continued over the meadow, the grasses growing taller and more golden as he walked. He wasn’t far enough. He had even dumped all the samples of crystals from his subspace just in case, but that was only yesterday. He wasn’t far enough from their field.

That _had_ to be it.

Soundwave whimpered as he stared at the contents of his subspace, still digging around within for any item that he could have missed, though he knew it was empty. If he’d found the little toy Ravage had played with as a newborn, and the blanket Rumble begged him to keep then swore he didn’t need, “but you still have it, right, Dad?”, then he knew there was nothing else in there. No point shard or leaf piece to be interrupting his telepathy.

He whimpered as he searched desperately for the crystal piece he _knew_ wasn’t there.

Morning found him clutching Rumble’s blanket and Ravage’s toy to his chest and wondering why he didn’t have anything of Frenzy, Laserbeak, or Buzzsaw’s to hold.

He reached out mentally for any thoughts, but the land was empty. His scanners and sensors worked without glitching. He suffered no backlash from the telepathic scan.

But the void remained.

It was late morning before Soundwave managed to pull himself together, and repack his subspace. He stumbled south, singing broken lullabies for some sound other than the wind over the plains and the soft warbling that followed in his wake.

~ | ~

Soundwave paused as he came to the edge of the plains, the grass dry and brittle, short. Dusty brown dirt led the way up to a rusting Cybertronian city wall.

He stared blankly, shaking and exhausted. Three more days he had walked, and other than that beast he had been forced to kill when it attacked him, and the ever-present trill-warble that shadowed him, he had not seen or heard or detected a single living being. His song faltered, a whimper breaking the rhythm. Cybertron, but not.

Soundwave sank to the ground, staying on the scruffy grass. He knew he needed energon, but didn’t want to consume any. The very idea made his tanks roll, and he couldn’t afford to waste it on a purge.

To his left the suns were setting, and above him the moons became brighter, four now decorating the night sky.

He sat and stared until dark, then forced himself to take a mouthful of energon.

He called out for his creations, almost sick with the disappointment when he felt only the void. He wished he could stop hoping that every time he tried, he would hear them. It was harder to stand, but moving forward was all he had left, so Soundwave curled in on himself mentally again, and walked.

~ | ~

Patrol was usually boring.

Solo patrol was even more boring, because if it was a solo trip, it was because it was a circuit that was likely not on the Decepticons sightings list. Which meant it was “safe” enough to do the patrol without physical backup.

Bluestreak sighed, so _bored_ with no one to talk to, and not allowed to tie up the comms with idle chatter.

The Decepticons were lying low. There was some intel of some new super weapon they were working on, but there were no details yet. Worse, this one was supposedly something of Shockwave’s, so the Earth Autobots were stuck waiting for intel from the group still on Cybertron _if_ Ultra Magnus thought he’d need their help even, or if it was heading to Earth before they could take care of it.

He sighed, slaloming back and forth in the lane, sensors on alert. Boredom wasn’t an excuse to slack. Besides, sensors on high might pick up something to break the dreary doldrums of the patrol.

Unfortunately, it was Bluestreak’s stabilizers, not his sensors that alerted him, and by then the earthquake was well under way.

Bluestreak darted forward out of the path of a falling tree, then transformed to his root mode. He looked around, trying to decide what would be the best idea as the shaking continued. Rocks were clattering down the mountain wall, but standing by the drop-off side was even more dangerous. He ran over to the rock wall, twisting at the last moment to avoid a second tree as it bounced down the mountain.

Luck was not with him today though, and his twist put him in the path of another of the large, heavy trees. Bluestreak managed to initiate his emergency beacon as he flew over the edge, but then the tree flipped and the thick truck smashed into his helm, and the sky went black.

~ | ~

Bluestreak woke with a throbbing processor, and a body that ached _everywhere_. He groaned, booting his optics and looking around.

He reset them, then again, every pain forgotten in his shock.

All around stood the ruins of a city.

A Cybertronian city.

He scrambled to his feet, biting back a cry of pain as a dislocated doorwing swung limply against his back. He clutched at his chest where the tree initially slammed into him. The dent there was deep.

Cycling a few deep breaths, and closing his optics for a moment, Bluestreak tried to calm himself down. There had to be some explanation for this. And really… was this the weirdest thing to ever happen to him? No. So, he’d be ok. He just needed to take stock, get his bearings, and then look for the nearest entrance to Ultra Magnus’ base of operations.

He could do that. Didn’t matter so much _how_ he got to Cybertron, as much as _where_ on Cybertron he was.

Bluestreak opened his optics, running an internal diagnostic. He blinked in surprise. Only three breems had passed? That kind of a blow to the helm should have knocked him out for hours!

“Guess I’m tougher than I thought,” he muttered, looking around again as his status scan finished.

The city had the look and feel of a place long abandoned. What he could see of it in the endless starlit night of Cybertron, that was. He could tell he was surrounded by buildings. His sensors fed him that much, and he could just make out the gaping blackness of windows.

A shudder tripped down his spinal struts, making him hiss as the doorwing moved. Frag. That was going to hurt when he reset it. He refocused, pushing the fear aside for a moment. His HUD displayed a list of injuries, none any worse than his doorwing. He had a headlight busted out, his chest dented and the substructure pressing against his internals. Not much he could do but wait on his self-repair to fix the dents. The headlight was gone. The glass and light would need replaced. There were various other minor dents and scrapes. He was already grey though, and in this dim light, no one… if he found anyone… would notice the missing color nanites before they repopulated his plating. And of course he couldn’t transform with the dislocation.

Ok. So he just had to find a way to lift his doorwing back up, and knock it back into the joint.

Great.

He already missed Ratchet and his lectures on stupid mechs with their stupid injuries. He’d argue that it wasn’t his fault the Earth had a quake, or that the trees and rocks had come tumbling down the mountain. He’d tried to move after all, but with that many falling he was just lucky to be alive, stupid injuries and all. And where was his sympathy? He fell off a fragging _mountain_ through no design of his own by the way, and Ratchet was going to lecture _him_?

“Should lecture the mountain,” Bluestreak muttered as he turned on his one headlight, and began his search. “Should lecture Earth, it’s what made the quake and shook the mountain and made all the trees fall.”

He chewed at his lip, continuing down the street he’d woke on, optics sweeping the shadows and dark patches, sensors strained to their very limits. Nothing showing up was good, no matter how spooky it was.

And holy Primus, it was spooky. He tried not to think about the last time he’d been stuck injured and wandering an empty city. Of course then there had been fires, and crushed corpses and…

Bluestreak shook his head hard, letting the pain of his doorwing being jostled flow through him. He really didn’t need to start thinking like that. It’d have him jumping at shadows and driving himself insane in less than a breem.

He kept walking, twisting his torso every now and then to shine over the crumbling buildings. He had to be in one of powerless sectors. Probably pretty deep given he couldn’t see any light at all on the horizons. Of course they could be blocked by the cityscape, then he wouldn’t see distant light. He could be totally walking the wrong direction!

Bluestreak stopped, spinning around, optics darting from place to place to place as he cut his headlight. Nothing. There was nothing.

He shivered again, wincing, but otherwise ignoring his doorwing, the other ached as he twitched it around, angling it to pick up any extra sensory data it could.

There was just… nothing.

Bluestreak looked up. The stars were all unfamiliar, but that was normal for Cybertron. The planet tumbled through space after all.

He almost missed it in the blackness of the sky, optics sliding right over it, then shooting back. A darker, blacker… tear in the sky.

“The slag is that?” Bluestreak suddenly felt cold. “No. No, I didn’t fall off a mountain on Earth and through a hole in the ground and then the sky and land on Cybertron. Things like that don’t happen. It doesn’t make any sense. No, no… Ok, Blue, calm down. Something else happened and it wasn’t that, cuz that’s pretty stupid, can you just hear Prowl? I think I can see his expression in my mind, and it’s that look he gets when Sideswipe pulls a really dumb prank and is surprised he got caught. Like when he set that crate of super balls to fall and break open, but Grimlock of all mechs saw him and the trap sprung early, and Prime ended up with super balls stuck in his smoke stacks.” He snickered, feeling a bit better. He still couldn’t see anything, but that image of Prime’s optics narrowed at Sideswipe would always make him giggle.

“Ok. Think, Blue. You’re surrounded by buildings too high to see around or through so… So I should go higher. I should also turn on my night vision. Duh.” He switched to his night vision, the landscape going from dark grey on nearly black, on total black to shades of green.

He surveyed the buildings. He would need one that was open, but tall so he could have the best vantage point possible. Luckily he had some experience picking vantage points. Was kinda nice to be looking for one for a different reason than snuffing out a spark though.

“That one could work,” he muttered, still turning slowly in place so he could see all around himself.

Coming around full circle, he walked toward the building he had initially marked as workable. Getting in was easy, going up, not so much. Even night vision had limits, and on a few floors not even starlight shone through. Noises sounded in the dark, but never from the same floor he was on. They could have been his imagination. Or, even more likely, since it was all below and behind him, his passage had dislodged things. The lifts of course didn’t work, and some were blocked at different points, or completely collapsed. Made sense that he had managed to knock things around a bit. He’d have to be just that much more careful going back down.

Reaching the roof took hours, but Bluestreak finally pushed open the last door, a trap door in the roof, and climbed out. He blinked, the light so much brighter than inside the building. He switched to the regular spectrum, and stared around in amazement. The sky itself was brighter, the stars less visible, that tear in the sky more obvious.

“The slag…?”

He turned slowly, and stopped, stunned as the sky in one direction was distinctly lighter. “Like morning on Earth.” Bluestreak stared at the horizon. “Maybe we’re near enough to a star to have a real morning for a change?”

He turned his optics to the roof itself. Nothing much visible. The trap door was close to the middle of the flat expanse of metal, and the side walls were about knee-high to Bluestreak. There was a scrap sheet of metal a dozen or so paces from him, but that was it. It was a good vantage point, however, and if the star lighting the sky was really close, and bright enough once it rose, Bluestreak would be able to see for megamiles.

He walked back to the trap door, double checking below, but could hear and see nothing. He closed the door, and walked over to retrieve the sheet metal, laying it partly over the hinge side of the door. Decepticons could fly, but that was usually noisy, so if anyone came up from below the door, they’d make the sheet metal scrape the roof. Hopefully that would wake Bluestreak.

Bluestreak walked to the outer wall behind the hinges. He would spot any potential attackers before they saw him. Hopefully.

He stared at the low wall and glanced over his shoulder at his dislocated doorwing. There was no help for it. This was going to hurt like the Smelters. First he checked his rifle, safety off, charged with plenty of power left. Bluestreak laid it on the roof surface, then carefully crouched beside the weapon. His injured wing whipped pain into his back, and up over his shoulder as the end was rested on the low wall. Bluestreak sank lower, balancing, and hoping this wall was high enough so that when-

He dropped to his aft, breath sucked sharply through his teeth as the doorwing was popped back into place. Pain narrowed his vision, but he proudly acknowledged that the only sound had been the horrible metallic squeal of the connector sliding along his plating, and the fast panting breaths he was gulping now so he wouldn’t purge his tanks in reaction. Primus! That was _so_ much worse when Ratchet hadn’t deadened the sensor nodes.

Bluestreak took a few minutes to calm his vents, and let the pain ebb to a dull throb. He carefully lay down, resting the injured doorwing on the ground, then routed all self-repair priorities to fixing that first. All the minor dents and dings could wait. They didn’t impair his movement like a damaged wing could.

Another scan of the area, and he pulled his rifle up, ready to be fired should someone show up. Bluestreak drifted into a light recharge as the sky continued to brighten.

~ | ~

Bluestreak didn’t want to wake. He was so comfortable. The sun was warming his plating. He felt decently rested, but lethargic, lazy. He’d been having such a weird dream though. Wait ‘til he told Sides. Or Bumblebee. Bumblebee would listen. He’d giggle at the part about falling off a mountain and through a rip in space to land on Cybertron too. Sideswipe might just give him a look, and that wasn’t nearly as fun as sharing a laugh.

He shifted, and gasped, coming fully awake in an instant as metal scraped metal. Optics wide, Bluestreak stared. A flash of fear, and he sat up fast, gripping his rifle.

“Oh, frag! Not a dream!”

His doorwing throbbed from the sudden movement, and having to support its own weight on the healing joint. Above him the sun… _suns_ shone brightly. It was beautifully warm, like a nice summer afternoon, but it was all wrong. He was still on that rooftop on Cybertron.

Bluestreak shook his head, cycling his intakes. “Ok. Just gotta finish waking up, and think. Think, think, think.”

He stood carefully, optics and scanners searching carefully. The roof door was exactly how he left it, closed with the sheet of metal half covering it. He must’ve startled himself awake when he moved a little.

Bluestreak turned slowly. Now in full daylight he really could see for megamiles. He wasn’t on the tallest building, but he was up high enough to see where the city ended in two directions. He stared north, squinting, then lifted his rifle, looking through the scope at the distant landscape.

“The frag?”

There was no place on Cybertron like that.

There was another visible border to the south. Bluestreak turned, raising his rifle again, mouth falling open, but no words coming out for once.

It was as if Cybertron, a single city from Cybertron, had been picked up, and dropped down on Earth. Well, sort of Earth, because, ya know, two suns.

Bluestreak lowered the rifle. “Ok, well, south looks closer, so south it is.” He could see a decent path almost halfway to the landscape change before buildings and distance converged to block his view of the street. It would be a fairly straight shot out. On the other hand, all he had was two cubes of energon, one that he did need to consume here in a minute, and that emergency processor he took everywhere. Sometimes long missions got longer, or you got stuck behind enemy lines after completing one. Or sometimes short missions got long, and sometimes, apparently, you fell off a mountain and through a hole in the sky.

He also had a long trip back down through the building. He knew the path, had carefully memorized it, so it would be faster to go down than coming up had been, but he was still looking at a good hour or so. And it wouldn’t hurt to poke around while he could see, and try to find anything useful.

Deciding standing around and thinking about it all wasn’t going to get him there any faster, he pulled a cube from subspace. He drank it while pacing over to the trapdoor, stumbling over the lifted edge of a roof tile. He frowned first at the tile with its missing rivets, then at the energon that had splashed over his hand and wrist. Bluestreak finished off the cube, then licked and sucked at the energon. His lips pressed into a thin, annoyed line. He couldn’t get it all out of his wrist joint.

“Gonna get all sticky,” Bluestreak muttered. Hooking his rifle over his shoulder and onto his back, he moved the sheet metal aside as quietly as possible. Everything was so silent. Even his softly spoken words seemed loud.

He wasn’t terribly fond of ‘silent’. Bustling Cybertronian cities hummed with life. The constant vibrations of traffic made the buildings ring in low, subsonic tones. Even on Earth nothing was quiet. Birds sang, and mechs chattered, alarms went off. ‘Silent’ was lonely and dark. Dead.

Bluestreak paused with his hand on the handle, and cycled a deep respiration. He just needed to treat this like a mission. Missions required silence. This was just another mission. Get home. And home was Earth right now, so he needed that green he saw to the south. Easy. He’d walk, take his time, look for useful stuff, and he’d be there sometime tomorrow. He could take a break then, and turn on the processor, bask in the sun for a day.

Hopefully there’d be some birds singing.

~ | ~

Bluestreak frowned into the green blackness. It was still impossibly dark on these middle levels, and night vision wasn’t doing him much better than the regular spectrum. He was _sure_ he’d heard something too, but the slagging place was a maze. Who knows what he knocked loose stumbling around. He was tempted to just turn on his headlight.

He’d gotten turned around somehow.

Bluestreak sighed, and turned on the one remaining headlight, then did a slow turn. Something thumped, and he looked down at the floor. He quickly found his own footprints, and snuck back along the trail, turning his headlight back off once he was sure he was in the right place. If there was a Decepticon in the building, the darkness was Bluestreak’s friend. But slag, because that thump had come from below him.

He stopped at the hole in the floor he’d come up through last night, and listened intently, slowing his respiration down as much as he could, and remaining perfectly still.

After a breem there had been nothing but a few distant clanks, and Bluestreak carefully lowered himself through the hole. He crouched off to the side, listening again. If there was a Decepticon in the building with him, and they were still below him, then they either didn’t know he was there, or were systematically clearing floors. If he was careful, he should be able to sneak by them.

Bluestreak remembered this floor. The way down wasn’t too far off. Whatever loud sound he heard could have come from more than a floor below him, echoing up the old empty lift shaft.

Bluestreak crept to the lift, its doors long since gone somewhere into the blackness. He had climbed five floors, but above this level the shaft was blocked. He knew this particular lift too. He’d seen it on the first floor, the wreckage of the crashed lift blocking the shaft. The three floors above ground level were blocked by debris.

Bluestreak blinked in the darkness. He was so going to get a lecture for even entering a building this derelict, and he couldn’t even say it was undeserved. He’d be lucky to get out without it falling down around his audials.

And, _no_ he was not going to let images of being trapped under a building in his processors right now. Or like, ever.

Listening at the opening, Bluestreak could hear sounds from below, but wasn’t sure which floor. Chewing at his lip a moment, he felt carefully around the edge for a handhold. He was nervous, but this building was a maze. If he could get down to the fourth level, he’d be low enough to blast an outer wall and jump to escape if he had to. He’d rather not though. Fourth floor was still high enough to bust a strut if he landed wrong, and blowing out a wall wouldn’t work well if he was already under pursuit.

Bluestreak cautiously lowered himself over the side, trying to make as little noise as possible, then inched his way to the side of the shaft where the lift track would give him a more secure path down than trying to scramble from floor to floor. He moved slowly down, and was nearly past the closed doors of the eighth floor when a sluffing sound made him stop. He stared at the doors, night vision making the thin crack where the doors met a lighter, thin green line.

The sound repeated, and Bluestreak frowned as he stared up at the doors. He listened hard, the sound so close, just on the other side. He held perfectly still, trying to keep his arms from shaking under the strain of keeping him in place.

_**THUMP!** _

Bluestreak’s optics shot wide, he gasped, slipping a little lower before he could catch himself. _Oh, frag. Ohfragohfragohfrag_! There was a Decepticon there! He’d been noticed!

_**THUMP!** _

Dust rained down on Bluestreak, and he slipped a little lower. He could still escape. He just had to be careful. Yeah. And fast. He needed to move.

**_THUMP!_ **

This time there was also an accompanying _skree_ of shearing metal. Bluestreak slid lower. Slipping down the track was much easier than scaling it, but holy slag what sort of Decepticon was up there just punching so slowly through the lift doors?

**_THUMP!_ **

“Ah!” Bluestreak pulled himself tight to the track, flattening his wings to his back as the doors gave and clatter-banged down past him. He looked up at the doorway now a level and a half over his head. A sharp inhalation of cold terror as his night vision locked on the… thing wobbling on the threshold. “Primus,” he whispered, reaching for his subspace and single-hand blaster.

The Empty moaned, the hollow sound echoing down the shaft. It shuffled side to side, looking right at Bluestreak with its one functioning, pale _blue_ optic. Bluestreak’s spark felt like it guttered out for a moment, locking him in place, hand shaking too hard to fire with any accuracy at all.

It slunk along the edge, and Bluestreak shivered, realizing it was trying to figure out how to get down to him. A low growling moan rose to an audial-splitting howl.

Then it _leapt_.

Bluestreak fired, putting three shots through its torso, and one right into its face, before the Empty impacted him. His blaster was knocked from his hand, his feet jarred from where he had them braced against the wall. Bluestreak cried out, scrambling to get his other hand back on the lift track and stop his downward momentum.

He clung, panting, to the track, and worked his knees back up so he wasn’t just hanging there. It was utterly silent again, and Bluestreak craned his neck to see below him. Slag. He needed that blaster back.

Bluestreak worked his way down, freezing again as he heard sounds from around the building. Looking down, there was no movement, and there was no way that particular Empty had survived. Bluestreak shuddered.

There were more.

As if to confirm his thought, a low groan sounded from below him. _Primus_. 

Bluestreak shifted carefully to look down again, and choked back a whimper as movement appeared. _Primus_ , he repeated, as what had to be three or four more Empties shuffled onto the debris stacked to just below floor level on the fourth floor.

Their moans and groans grew in volume, then more angry howls and growls. The sound of tearing, scraping metal filled the shaft, and Bluestreak hunkered against the track, trying desperately to block out the knowledge of what they were doing to the one he’d killed so he wouldn’t purge a tank.

Bluestreak panted quietly, inching up a little. He didn’t worry about sound quite so much as they were making a gruesome racket not far below him. The sixth floor doors were gone, though, and if he could just get back up there, he could keep his back to the wall with floor under him, and work his way past them.

He found the little metal lip the lift locks grabbed when stopped, and got the tip of a foot on it. Another look down. Sickening though it was, the Empties were still busy with their meal, and not paying the least attention to Bluestreak. He sighed a little, checking his grip, then looked at the door frame ready to make the short jump.

He yelped, recoiling from the mangled arm reaching for him. And fell.

Bluestreak clawed at the track, managing to slow his descent only marginally before landing right on top of one the Empties. All movement and sound ceased but for the one above him. It howled in hungry rage, then jumped.

Bluestreak screamed, and launched himself at the doorway, a hand grazed his doorwing, another nearly caught hold of his ankle. He dove into a roll, hand going back for his rifle as he came up, and spun around. He didn’t aim, didn’t care, just fired, backing away from the putrid monsters.

His door wing bumped something, and Bluestreak spun and fired, muzzle flash illuminating nothing but the wall. He spun back, aiming for the lift opening, but nothing moved. No sounds but the harsh sobbing gasps from Bluestreak himself.

He put his back to the wall, and sank down, rifle over his lap, free hand covering his face. He was shaking hard in reaction and terror. Empties were nearly myth. Everyone knew they were real, but they were so seldom seen, most mechs treated them as sparkling tales, or ghost stories to be told on dark nights to scare each other silly.

This wasn’t silly at all. Or funny, or anything he’d _ever_ tell some poor sparkling. Primus, give a kid nightmares for life.

 _He_ was going to have nightmares for life!

Bluestreak cycled his vents, and stood back up, wiping his face dry as he did. Ok, miniature freak-out over. He needed to get the slag out of this building and into the open where he could see and defend himself better. The road out was a nice, wide avenue. He’d haul aft toward the south, and shoot anything that even thought of making a meal out of him.

First, he needed his blaster back. No fragging way was he leaving a perfectly serviceable weapon behind while he had a chance to get it.

Rifle up and ready, finger on the trigger, Bluestreak switched from night vision to the regular spectrum, and turned on his headlight. He turned, searching the room for movement, but there was none. Something clanked maybe a floor or two above. There was a thump down a level. He shuddered, face twisting as he neared the dead Empties.

More sounds, and he cursed silently. The ones on this floor had come, drawn like magnets, to the first one he’d killed. Instantly those ghost stories flashed through his mind, and Bluestreak shivered, stepping into the lift shaft. They could smell energon. It’s how they hunted. It was _why_ they hunted.

Bluestreak’s optics paused on his own wrist, as he swept them around, looking for the blaster. “Oh, slag,” he breathed, spark stuttering, fuel pump hammering away. He’d spilled his energon.

There was a sound closer. His level now. Frantic, Bluestreak searched for the blaster, finally spotting it near the back where it’d tumbled into a low spot in the debris. He hesitated, then inhaled deeply, placing his rifle on his back so he could climb over a fallen beam, audials on max.

Bluestreak bit back a whimper as a sluffing sound came from behind him. He grabbed the blaster, and turned. His headlight illuminated the Empty, even as it recoiled from the sudden light, hollow voice echoing in an animalistic cry. Bluestreak’s respiration came in gasps as he stared at the mangled, rusting, corpse-grey creature.

“Primus…”

It growled at him, swiping ineffectually at the light, shuffling side to side. Bluestreak climbed back over the beam, blaster aimed at it. He was torn. It wasn’t attacking, it had once been a mech. He crept forward carefully. It didn’t seem to like the light, maybe he could use that to his advantage?

The Empty howled, and backed away. Bluestreak paused at the lift entry, and risked sweeping the light left then right.

Howls and snarls filled the air, and Bluestreak fell back with a scream.

Driven by pure instinct and vorns of training, he fired the blaster first at the one nearest him, then into the slagging _crowd_ of Empties. Bluestreak pressed forward, edging around the lift doorframe. They were blocking his way off this floor, and he couldn’t stay in the lift shaft. Some cowered back from the light, but a few seemed to lack optics in their ruined faces, and lurched forward, jostling the others out of the way.

Bluestreak whimpered, and put a triple burst through the naked metal mesh of one Empty’s torn, sightless face. The three closest to it paused, looking down, before falling on it. Bluestreak’s tanks rolled. He pressed his back to the wall, watching as a few more stumble-shuffled around the edge of his headlight’s beam toward the lift.

_I’m between them and a meal._

Bluestreak shuddered at the thought, but looking at those he’d managed to kill, and how others tore at the corpses gave him an idea. He fired at an Empty straight ahead of him, managing to wound it in four different places before it fell. He put a final shot through its head as a handful of the others dove for the energon pouring from the wounds. No one, not even a monster, deserved to live through that.

Hyperaware of the Empties still hesitating due to the light, Bluestreak dropped a few more, trying to lure the ones in his path away. He inched his way down the wall, surprised it was working. It wasn’t fast progress, but he was still alive, and none of them seemed terribly eager to get too close. But where the frag had they all come from? He hadn’t seen any the night before.

But he’d heard them!

Bluestreak shivered, another quiet whimper sounding as he realized he’d recharged so close to these things. He was lucky to be alive.

He was getting close, could actually see the gaping blackness in the floor where part of the interior had collapsed. It was a decent slope, and if Bluestreak could get a little closer, he could rush that opening, and slide straight down to the second floor.

He turned his torso toward a scuffing far too close on the floor. The Empty fell back with a cry, and Bluestreak fired. Four shots, then one through the head, but Bluestreak misjudged, and shouted himself as sharp teeth _bit_ into his right doorwing. He fired, the blast singeing his doorwing, and the monster’s teeth gouging short tears as its face exploded. Bluestreak cried out with the pain, and gave up his slow progress.

He fired fast, accurate shots into the faces of the Empties in his direct path, and rushed them. Something brushed his injured doorwing, something made a grab at his knee as he leapt over one of the corpses, but he made it past the most of them.

Bluestreak tucked his wings tight to his back, ignoring the dull ache from the joint, and the sharper sting from the bite, and jumped feet first through the hole. He landed on his aft, and slid down the pile of rubble, straight through the third floor and on to the second.

Another sharp cry escaped him when his arm caught on a piece of rebar. Even in the dark Bluestreak could see the bright glow of his life’s blood well, then drip from the gash in his forearm. He tumbled to a halt on the second floor, gasping for air, and frantically looking around. All the sounds were above him at the moment, which thank Primus, because that was more slagging Empties in one place than in any horror story he’d ever been told. They could smell energon, and had converged faster than given credit for.

A growl above him, and a piece of something clattered down the pile. The Empty moaned, and stepped forward. Graceless, mindless thing, it fell. Bluestreak put three rounds through its torso and one through its helm, then jumped to his feet, pelting for the back of the building and the final drop to the ground level.

He tucked his wings, crossed his arms and jumped through at speed. Bloodied, he needed every asset, and surprise was a good one. Bluestreak landed hard, the Empty he’d crashed into howling as he dove off to the side, and rolled to his feet.

He ran, shoving past the shadowy figures, and firing his blaster right, left, and center. He could see the open doorway. Blessed sunlight.

A hand grabbed a wing, jerking the tender joint, and Bluestreak yelped and fired over his shoulder. He tripped, went down hard, but was back on his feet in an instant. Another grabbed for him, and he twisted, diving out the door only to crash into another body. He and it went down, and Bluestreak screamed as their limbs tangled for those precious seconds he needed for escape.

He scrambled to the side, shoving the thing away with a vicious kick, blaster coming up.

Bluestreak paused, staring with wide optics. Movement in the shadows of the doorway, and he fired. The Empty’s body fell into the sunlight, corpse grey, and bare metal. Howls echoed out, and the corpse was pulled slowly back in, the sounds of shearing metal and low haunting moans filling the air.

Bluestreak’s vents hitch with restrained sobs as he realized they weren’t following yet. He looked back at the mech he’d crashed into.

“Soundwave?!”

Soundwave stared back, visor dimming then brightening. “You are _real_!”

Bluestreak hiccupped in confusion as Soundwave grabbed his arm. He scrubbed at his face, the immediate terror over. He needed to get a hold on himself and _think_.

He continued to stare at Soundwave for a few moments. “Yeah. ‘Course I’m real. What else would I be, I mean, I’m no Empty!”

A shrill cry echoed out of the building, making Bluestreak jump. “Ok, slag this, we need to go.” He looked up at the suns as he scrambled to his feet and stuffed the blaster back into his subspace. It was still bright daylight, possibly midafternoon. Facing south, he pulled his rifle off his back, looking through the scope and down the avenue. “We haul aft, I think we can make it before nightfall. No slagging way I want to be here when they come out.” He was still very aware of the bleeding wounds he had, and the pain was starting to throb now that he wasn’t quite so afraid. He needed to move, keep busy, get back home.

He slung his rifle onto his back, and turned to face Soundwave, who still just seemed to be staring at him. Kinda creepy. “Sorry I crashed into you.” He bit his lip. “And …kicked you. Thought you were another one of them.” He waved he hand vaguely at the door. “We gotta go through. I didn’t hurt you, right? You can walk?” He began inching back. “We gotta go.”

“I can walk.”

The second half of Bluestreak’s day was far less harrowing than the first, and they escaped the city just as night fell. He was uncomfortable with how Soundwave clutched him, but the Decepticon could fly, and he’d been willing to lift Bluestreak over the sealed gates of the city and down into the soft green grass beyond. Better to be held too tight than to get dropped back down for the Empties to eat.

The land beyond the city walls was verdant and green, and tall trees stretched high into the starry night sky. It smelled like spring, damp and growing and fresh. It was easy going, and had he not had Soundwave practically glued to his side, Bluestreak could have transformed and driven. The grass was springy, but not too tall, and the trees were spaced out with plenty of room to roll between them safely and at a decent speed. He just wasn’t at all interested in having Soundwave, even in his alt mode, sitting on one of his seats. Not even with the mech behaving so strangely.

Bluestreak cycled his vents, looking back at the city walls. He could hear the low sounds of the Empties, and shivered. “I think we need some distance between us and these walls.”

Looking at Soundwave gave him the creeps too, though. The mech just _stared_.

“Yeah. Ok. Let’s go then.” Primus. Though it was nice to have someone else _alive_ close by, but Bluestreak would have preferred one of his friends instead of the big, scary, Decepticon telepath.

Wait…

Slag.

Bluestreak gave Soundwave a quick glance, but he didn’t look angry. Of course, how could anyone know with those masks in the way?

“So, um, have any idea where we are, or, like, what’s going on?”

“Negative.”

Well, that was ever so helpful and informative.

Bluestreak struggled to come up with something more to say, which was not at all normal for him, especially when he came up empty-handed. It made for a long, uncomfortable night, but by the time the eastern sky began to lighten, Bluestreak couldn’t see any hint of the city walls behind them. He chose a wide space between the trees, and slowed to a stop.

“How’s this for some recharge?”

Soundwave stopped right besides Bluestreak, nearly touching. “Acceptable.”

“Um… Yeah, ok. I, uh… I have a solar converter, it’s in my subspace, but, and ya know, sorry, but please don’t steal it and run off, ok? I don’t want to starve out here, but if the suns are decently strong, we’ll both have a fresh cube or two tonight, and I’ll share, but…” Bluestreak trailed off, doorwings dipping low on his back, still aching. He was tired, but had no clue whether he would be able to recharge with _Soundwave_.

“Companionship desired.”

Blinking, Bluestreak shuffled a bit, doorwings twitching. Primus, this was a disaster waiting to happen, but what other options did he have? Drop to his alt mode and zoom away? Soundwave could fly still, so he’d catch up eventually if he wanted to.

Frag it. Bluestreak pulled out the converter, and set it up in the middle of the clearing where it would hopefully get the most sunlight during the day. He moved back to the thick trunk of a tree and sat down, trying not to cringe away as Soundwave joined him.

“Ok, so you’re, like, touching me, and that’s a bit weird, ya know? I mean, you’re a ‘Con and we’re enemies, and I’m guessing we’ve got a truce now, or something? Right? I’d be cool with that, because I’m more concerned with trying to get home from wherever the slag we are, and I’d really rather not have to be on high alert the whole time with you, that’ll get exhausting.”

“Truce accepted,” Soundwave said.

Primus, this was so fragging weird, but Bluestreak nodded anyway, hoping those mental walls Jazz taught him were up and working. He definitely didn’t want Soundwave rummaging around in his head all day. “Ok. Ok, great. We should probably get some recharge, I mean, we should be safe enough in the daytime, the Empties won’t come out into the sunlight if they even figured out a way out of the city, which I really hope they haven’t, and then tonight once we’re rested, we can keep walking and maybe we’ll find something familiar, because I really want to go home.

“Hey, you have your guys with you?” Bluestreak asked, pointing at Soundwave’s chest compartment.

The visor band dimmed, and Soundwave’s whole posture crumpled in just enough to be noticeable. "Negative. Home desired as well.” There was a pause, visor locked on Bluestreak’s optics. “You are real.”

“Uh… yeah.” Hadn’t they established that?

Before Bluestreak could say anything else on the subject, Soundwave pressed closer. His helm tipped to rest on Bluestreak’s shoulder, and just like that, he was in recharge. At least Bluestreak thought he was.

Confounded, Bluestreak sighed. There was nothing for it. Not really. Oh well, even Megatron and Optimus teamed up sometimes for important stuff. He shifted a little so his weight would press into Soundwave’s more, and they wouldn’t -hopefully- end up in a heap, then let a light recharge take him.

~ | ~

Soundwave jerked awake, hands reaching before his optics even opened. His spark slammed in its casing, and he scrambled to his feet, turning wildly, reaching telepathically as terror filled him. He didn’t want to be alone! Had Bluestreak left him? Was it just a dream?

The relief was just as crushing as the panic when he finally spotted Bluestreak. Not thinking beyond the desperate need to _feel_ a living mech with him, Soundwave grasped Bluestreak’s arm. He knew he’d made a mistake the moment he made contact, but the utter stillness in Bluestreak confirmed it. The grey helm slowly turned to look up at Soundwave’s face, and then the pressure against the center of his chest registered.

Bluestreak’s optics were pale, his vents cycling precise, eerily calm breaths. Soundwave uncurled his fingers and slid a foot back to ease himself away.

“Apologies.” Soundwave could get no sense of Bluestreak through the mental barriers, but as the scowl formed he could guess well enough how his sudden clinging was interpreted.

“Want to explain that?” Bluestreak asked, though the words were all but a demand.

Soundwave hesitated. He certainly didn’t want to hand over such a powerful psychological weapon to an enemy soldier, but he could he risk Bluestreak leaving him alone again? He shivered, and took another slow step back. “I have been alone for weeks.”

“Uh huh.”

“I… feared you had left.”

An optics ridge arched, but Bluestreak lowered his blaster, and he seemed to be accepting Soundwave’s explanation.

“My apologies,” Soundwave repeated. “I panicked.”

“Because you’d been alone for a few weeks?” Bluestreak said.

Nodding, Soundwave felt his shoulders hunch a bit. He felt chastened, and even deserved it in his estimation. Grabbing a Decepticon like that would have ended in weapons fire. “There was no one. Nothing sentient. I could find-”

The blaster rose, aiming toward the warble-trill and rustling in the brush at the edge of the clearing.

“Wait!” Soundwave stepped between the blaster and where a soft, tawny face poked through the leaves. “It is harmless.”

“What is it?” Bluestreak asked, the blaster lowering again as he leaned to look around Soundwave.

“Species unknown. Organic vertebrate in nature.” Soundwave crouched, holding out his hand, but the creature ducked back into the bushes. “It has been following me since stealing my dead fish.”

“Why did you have a dead fish?” Bluestreak shook his helm. “Well, whatever, so long as it’s not going to cause us problems. You ready to go? Oh, and here. Energon.”

Soundwave rose and accepted the energon. He could feel the same urgency to move, though had no explanation for it. He followed Bluestreak, refueling, and listening through the night to the warble-trill in their wake.

~ | ~

Bluestreak wouldn’t say he was used to _Soundwave_ clinging to him, but over the past five days he had come to accept it. There were worse things than waking up with a warm frame curled around his own. Especially since despite the brightness of the suns, the air was fairly cool. Not risk-their-health cold or anything, but cool enough to appreciate a snuggle buddy during recharge.

The nights spent walking were boring, and Bluestreak filled them by babbling away about anything and everything that came to mind. “I’m sure we’ll get home, I mean, this one time, Prowl and the twins got stuck in Canada in this awful storm, and they were totally lost, and Prowl was damaged, but they found shelter, and then when the storm ended, Blaster caught their signal and Skyfire was able to go and pick them up.

“You know stuff like this happens all the time, really. I bet it’s happened to Decepticons too. The universe is crazy like that. If fact, weren’t Megatron and Prime stuck together one time? I think we were all surprised to see they came out of that with just a few dents. Oh! Speaking of dents-”

Soundwave, Bluestreak decided, was actually a pretty decent travelling companion. No matter how inane the topic, Soundwave was actually paying attention. He proved it by asking questions now and then. They were the sort to keep the conversation going, but also pointed enough to assure Bluestreak he wasn’t talking to the trees.

Not that that would have stopped him.

A little more worrisome, at least when it first started happening, was that when Bluestreak really got going, his mental blocks slipped some. He could _feel_ Soundwave there. He wasn’t digging or pushing. It wasn’t an attack, which Bluestreak had endured and was sure he’d recognize. No, Soundwave was just _there_. Basking, as near as Bluestreak could tell. A few days into their hike -and with no hints of prying- he was even more relaxed, allowing emotion to seep into his field. He didn’t hide the fact that Soundwave still occasionally made him nervous, but that didn’t seem to bother the Decepticon.

Soundwave even began speaking too. Bluestreak was fascinated by the concepts of the crystal forest, and learned way more about the Cassetticons than he ever wanted to know, but it was a whole new perspective to hear about them from their creator’s point of view.

“You really love them, huh?”

“Affirmative.”

“So tell me about our little friend?” Bluestreak asked, smiling at the now familiar trilling warble sound the animal made. It never came into their camp, but it stayed close, and sometimes before they set out, Soundwave would approach it and crouch down. He had managed to pet it their fourth evening before it darted away.

To Bluestreak, Soundwave seemed almost painfully lonely. He understood, empathized. He didn’t like being alone much either. Luckily, it seemed that the more accepting Bluestreak was of Soundwave’s presence, the more he relaxed his walls and let whatever emotions he felt shine through, the less clingy and desperate Soundwave became.

Bluestreak stared at the converter, watching how the amber light of the last setting sun gleamed off the metal. There was a third cube on it that was almost filled. He wanted to give the converter what little time they had left of daylight to see if it could finish. Beside him, Soundwave was playing with a handful of the long blades of grass that grew in clumps here and there.

“I think it’s almost done, then we can go. It’s weird, ya know?”

“Elaborate.”

“I kinda feel like we’re being drawn south. I dunno,” Bluestreak said with a shrug. “It’s just this feeling. Like there’s a big magnet in that direction, so we have to go that way.”

Soundwave nodded, much to Bluestreak’s surprise. “I cannot remain still.”

Bluestreak smiled, turning his helm as the creature scuffled around, waking now too. “Yeah. You got kids at home waiting. We’ll get there. I’m still convinced, and then we can make up stories about campfires and being dogged by Empties and how Cute ‘n’ Furry over there saved our- Soundwave?”

There was high, ringing note, and then the creature flew from under the bushes. Soundwave had tensed, but now he was on his feet, grass braids forgotten, and charging _south_. Bluestreak jumped to his feet and gave chase.

Up a sloping hill, then just over the crest, Bluestreak saw it. Soundwave was ahead of him, feet pounding toward the anomaly. It looked like someone had frozen and shrank a bolt of lightning, then hung it in the air just above the ground. It was shrinking still, and Bluestreak knew they weren’t going to make it, and he was, sadly, right. Soundwave _threw_ himself at it, just as the light blipped out of existence, and landed hard on the ground.

A chill ran down Bluestreak’s back, and at first he couldn’t tell why, but then the wrenching sobs reached his audials. A sense of desolation swamped him, rocking him from his feet and driving him to his knees. He struggled, vents heaving, and managed to bring up the mental walls enough to function. Crawling over to Soundwave, he reached out, cautious, but aching. If that was what Soundwave was feeling, how could he do anything _but_ comfort the mech?

“It’ll be ok,” Bluestreak murmured, rubbing Soundwave’s back. “It’ll be ok. Promise. You’ll see.”

They stayed there a long time, well past the sunset, long after a bright, full moon rose and lit the shadowy landscape around them. The little animal came in closer, nose wiggling toward Soundwave as his vents continued to hitch and catch. Bluestreak sat still, waiting and watching, hand moving slowly up, then down, then back up Soundwave’s back. When Soundwave final pushed himself up, the creature bounded away, and Bluestreak led them back to their camp to pack up the converter.

They set off in silence, neither speaking.

~ | ~

Soundwave ached all over, his arms wound tight around Bluestreak, clutching the other mech as though he would disappear any moment. He was surprised he’d managed to recharge at all. Either of them. He lifted his helm, startling the little creature Bluestreak had taken to calling Cute ‘n’ Furry. It bounded away, trilling as it dove beneath the large leaves of the underbrush.

Bluestreak squirmed, and Soundwave forced himself to ease his hold.

“Hi. Cute ‘n’ Furry want us up already?” Bluestreak sat up, and Soundwave followed him as he stood and went to go check the converter.

“Oh man…” Bluestreak reached up, stretching, doorwings arching and trembling as he did. “It’s still just midafternoon. He woke us way too early.” He handed Soundwave a cube of energon, and then sat down to drink his own, speaking between mouthfuls.

“So…” Bluestreak began, and Soundwave just knew what was coming. “You think that was the way home yesterday? I mean, here, it could be some weird space-time thingy that Skyfire would have to stop Perceptor from playing with. Like this one time-”

Soundwave drank his energon out of habit, closing his battlemask afterward, and let Bluestreak’s babbling wash over him. He’d been _so_ close. If he’d just been a little faster. If he’d sensed it just a moment sooner. If…

“We should go back.”

“What?” Bluestreak asked, his speculation on interdimensional travel cutting off. “Sorry. Go back? Well, yeah, I mean that’s what we’ve been trying to do, right? Go back home?”

“Negative. Go back to where we arrived.”

“You sure about that?” Bluestreak scowled in thought, elbow on a knee, cheek cupped in his hand. The last few swallows of energon swirled in the cube as he watched it. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I mean, you got dumped here weeks before me. Like, where were you? Weren’t you heading south-ish when you found me?”

Soundwave frowned. He _had_ been traveling vaguely south after walking east. “Affirmative.”

“Ok, so… how far, do you think? How long? Even if we just figure from about where I appeared. What if this is a regular thing?”

Painful hope flared hard, and Soundwave asked, “Do you believe so?”

Bluestreak shrugged. “I hope so. I mean, it’s a chance right? So, how far did we travel do you think? I should have been paying attention, but I really haven’t been, which I guess was kinda dumb on my part, but hey, six days of walking, well, five since last night doesn’t really count, and I was in the city a day, so still, kinda like six days, but how far? And what angle? I still think we’re being drawn. Maybe something in us can feel the energy as it flows along and builds until one of those light gashes show up?”

It was a possibility, and Soundwave couldn’t crush the rising hope back down. He compiled the information he had, based mostly on where he found Bluestreak and the estimated distance they had traveled, and pointed south by southeast. “We have approximately five days to cover approximately seven hundred and twenty miles.”

“Ok. Let’s get going.” Bluestreak shut down the converter and stored it in his subspace before setting off in the direction Soundwave had pointed.

“It is just an estimate. I do not have the correct figures. I could be… am _likely_ incorrect.” Soundwave hurried to catch up, still protesting. “We may not be in the right spot when the event occurs, _if_ it occurs.”

“It’s more than we had when we woke up yesterday,” Bluestreak said with a shrug, and kept walking. “Com’on, Cute ‘n’ Furry!” he called. “We have a long hike, little guy.”

The bushes rustled, and a warbling trill answered.

~ | ~

They were both vibrating with tension, unable to sit or relax. It had been a rushed five day march. But despite arriving well before dawn to the spot Soundwave believed was as close a guess as he could make, they’d been unable to recharge at all. Cute ‘n’ Furry had caught up to them about midmorning, but Soundwave’s coaxing couldn’t draw the exhausted little animal out from under the bush it was tucked under, and neither of them wanted to scare it by forcing it out. It had only ever come close when Bluestreak was recharging, and Bluestreak knew that Soundwave was just as worried about the little creature surviving alone as he was.

In a desperate attempt to keep them both from going crazy while waiting, Bluestreak suggested fishing. “I mean, it ate a fish before, right? Maybe we can catch some, show we really are friendly? Maybe earn its trust some? I mean…” He trailed off. If they went home and took the animal with them, then what? America did have rules about foreign animals and fruits. He remembered getting stopped because some big old leaf was stuck in his tire well once.

“Primus, what are we going to do with it?” Bluestreak sighed.

Soundwave didn’t reply, but waded out into the lake, visor intent and his scanners tickling at the edge of Bluestreak’s field. Bluestreak followed him out.

The afternoon dragged on, and there were no fish, or at least, not fish they could find to catch. Bluestreak tried to focus his scanners for movement beneath the gently lapping current, but as the day stretched on, he found himself attuned to Soundwave more and more. He was just waiting for a reaction, some sign, hint. A twitch. A flicker of light from that red visor.

 _Something_!

If Soundwave- No. _When_ Soundwave picked up that signal, whatever it was, Bluestreak wanted to be ready. Too much was riding on assumption and pure hope, he knew that, but he couldn’t let it go. They were surviving, but he knew neither of them wanted to stay there. Pits, Bluestreak was worried about Soundwave staying there too much longer. The mech would whimper and cry in his recharge. Bluestreak was sure he’d heard every last one of the Cassetticons’ names a dozen times over since they met up. He-

He whipped around, splashing out of the lake on Soundwave’s heels as he charged for the shore, then into the trees. A sharp trill sounded, and Bluestreak spotted Cute ‘n’ Furry just ahead, the flag end of its tail disappearing into a bush. They broke free of the trees, and Soundwave cursed, his step jogging sideways.

Bluestreak stumbled, but they were clear of the trees, and Cute ‘n’ Furry was unharmed and still running too. Bluestreak looked up, saw the shimmery gash across the meadow, and knew.

They were too far.

Every gasp of breath from Soundwave sounded like a sob. The tear shrank, and then disappeared altogether.

Bluestreak slowed to a stop, staring for a moment at the spot against the tree trunk where the rift had been, then turned back to Soundwave. The Decepticon was on his knees, great gulping, hiccupping sobs wrenching from him.

“Hey, come on,” Bluestreak said, ignoring the darting form of Cute ‘n’ Furry as it disappeared back into the underbrush. “Why are you so upset? You were right. Your calculations were really close on. That was really amazing, you know, I don’t think I could have managed that, not on as little data as we had, and now this time we’ve got even more.” He crouched beside Soundwave, hands gripping the dark blue shoulders. “I bet you’ll put us right on target for the next one.”

Soundwave stood, and Bluestreak let his hands drop away. For a few minutes, they just stood there, Bluestreak silently letting Soundwave get himself under control and figure it out. In a bush off to the side, close, but out of sight, Cute ‘n’ Furry warble-trilled. They were really going to have to figure the critter out. What would happen to the little animal if they left him there? It clearly wasn’t his home.

“We’ve gotta get Cute ‘n’ Furry to trust us. I’m going to worry about him forever if we just ditch him here.”

Soundwave looked to the side and nodded. “We will try. Come.”

Bluestreak hurried after Soundwave, legs stretching into a long stride to keep up. “We’ll get there.”

“Affirmative.” Soundwave’s voice rang with determination, and Bluestreak smiled.

They could make it. They _would_ make it.

~ | ~

Morning came, and Soundwave left Bluestreak to set up the converter while he went to scan the lake. He was tired in every way. Mentally weary, physically exhausted, and emotionally wiped out, but Bluestreak’s words regarding the creature had stayed with him through their night’s walk. It had followed Soundwave so far from where they had met. He had not meant to draw the animal along, and in truth wasn’t sure his actions had done that, or the natural intelligence and curiosity of it. However, he now could not imagine just leaving the little beast to fate, and he feared that it would never find its way back to the crystal forest alone.

Fishing, as Bluestreak suggested, might work to gain Cute ‘n’ Furry’s trust. They had to do something, and this was better than nothing at all.

Soundwave also might consider a proper name for it too. If he was going to keep the animal, he should name it.

“What do you think?” Bluestreak asked, standing next to Soundwave at the water’s edge. “Fish biting this morning?”

“Negative. However, fish present.” Soundwave waded in slowly, smiling a bit as Bluestreak chuckled. He was becoming rather fond of the Autobot, which was undoubtedly a bad thing, but he couldn’t help it. Bluestreak was open, kind, and oddly enough seemed to get the rare, subtle jokes Soundwave told. None but his creations, not even Megatron, managed that.

“Bet I can catch more than you.”

“Doubtful,” Soundwave replied, hand slicing down into the water that lapped at his knees. A fish went flying up onto the bank, where it flopped and flailed, but he had thrown it hard enough that it was too far away to reach the lake before suffocating.

“Pff! That’s just _one_.”

Bluestreak moved slowly, optics and scanners tuned toward the water, but Soundwave had the advantage of much more refined sensors. He was also up by three fish to Bluestreak’s one only a half an hour later. Soundwave was going for his fourth when water suddenly splashed into his face. He sputtered, sneezing to clear his vents.

Laughter rang out, and another splash caught Soundwave in the chest, cool lake water dripping into the gaps of his armor and chilling his shoulder. He splashed back without even thinking about it, hand sweeping across the surface of the lake, making a wide plane of water arc at the Autobot. Bluestreak yelped, but rather than try to duck away, he attacked back.

Soundwave didn’t remember beginning to laugh himself, but they both somehow managed to land on the shore, still snickering.

“Oh! Oh, man!” Bluestreak hopped up, wriggling and twisting, laughing more, though the pitch arced up an octave before he finally just wrenched a panel of armor outward. A fish flopped to the beach, and after a stunned pause, Bluestreak’s arms shot up in victory. “Hah! That’s two!”

Soundwave pointed up the shore. “Five. I am the victor.”

“Oh, sorry. Did you think I was completing with you? No, no, I was just trying to get two, but hey good job there with five, that’s pretty cool too, ya know. I mean, I bet Cute ‘n’ Furry’s gonna think he won the lotto today when he catches up to us.”

Soundwave snorted, shoved himself to his feet, and pretended to ignore Bluestreak’s bright smile as he collected the fish.

“Seriously though. This is a fragging banquet for the little guy.”

“Agreed.” Soundwave wasn’t sure it would work, but he made a small pile of the fish, then laid down a little more than an arm’s length from it.

Bluestreak added his two, then joined Soundwave on the grass. “I hope this works. We’re so much faster than he is, and he isn’t getting close to the rest animals probably need. Be better if we could carry him. You know, if he trusted us. I don’t want to stress him out or anything.”

Soundwave nodded, relaxing as he and Bluestreak curled together. He knew Bluestreak would continue talking, and appreciated it. It was nice to hear voices as recharge pulled him down into velvet darkness. He just wished those voices were his creations’.

~

Soundwave woke when Bluestreak pulled away. Indigo was stretching across the sky from the east.

“He ate them,” Bluestreak said, voice hushed.

Soundwave sat up, scanners sweeping for the creature’s life signs. The fish pile was mangled. Cute ‘n’ Furry had clearly enjoyed itself, eating the bits from each fish it liked best, and leaving behind the rest. It was now curled up beneath a bush, seemingly sleeping, and not all that far away.

“Here,” Bluestreak said, offering Soundwave a cube of energon. “Think we should wake him before we go? Can we go a little slower tonight? Would that frag us?”

Soundwave considered before dipping his chin in a nod. “Affirmative. Our progress is acceptable.” Hopefully they could earn the animal’s trust, then pick up the pace while carrying it the rest of the way, though Soundwave would admit he had no idea if they would succeed. If it came down to going home to his creations at the cost of abandoning Cute ‘n’ Furry, then he would just learn to live with the guilt of leaving the creature behind.

~ | ~

The river they stopped by was shallow but fast-flowing. Soundwave waded in, and Bluestreak joined him as soon as the converter was set up. They had started off walking slower the previous night, but both felt the time ticking away. Bluestreak lost count of how many times they had realized how fast they were travelling and had slowed back down. It was difficult though. What if they came across rougher terrain that was harder to cross? What if the minutes and miles they sacrificed now for an alien critter cost them their ride home?

Soundwave managed to catch a fish, but they weren’t nearly as playful today. It had been really fun, and Bluestreak hadn’t actually expected Soundwave to laugh and splash back at him, but their mood was more reserved. Tenser.

Soundwave set the fish off to the side, then laid down. Bluestreak curled up against his side, but neither of them recharged. It was midmorning before Cute ‘n’ Furry caught up, and Bluestreak’s guilt ratcheted up. The poor critter looked exhausted. It sniffed the air, then hop-walked to the fish, sniffed at it, then in Soundwave and Bluestreak’s direction, but as they weren’t moving, it turned back to its meal. The fish was devoured to the bones, then Cute ‘n’ Furry gave itself a perfunctory cleaning, smoothing down rumpled fur and washing its face with its front paws.

Bluestreak watched until recharge claimed him, but when he woke, Cute ‘n’ Furry was out of sight.

“It is close,” Soundwave said, then laid another smaller fish next to the base of a bush. “I attempted to call it closer, but was unsuccessful.”

Bluestreak frowned, and began packing away the converter. After they finished their own evening meal, they set out once again. “I feel really bad, but I don’t think we can really go slow, can we?”

“Negative. Our goal is more pressing.” Soundwave didn’t sound any happier about that than Bluestreak though.

~ | ~

“Slag. River’s going that way, isn’t it?” Bluestreak asked, pointing.

“Affirmative,” Soundwave replied.

“And we’re still going this way, right?” The Autobot swung his arm forward, heaving a sigh.

Soundwave didn’t bother to answer, but he did slow down, optics on the river, scanners reaching. “There are fish.”

“Take a break and catch a few just in case?”

Soundwave walked into the water in answer, knowing Bluestreak would follow. They had very little success, but two was better than nothing, and the one was rather large compared to their previous catches.

When the dawn came, Soundwave didn’t stop walking, and neither did Bluestreak. There was a pressure around Soundwave’s spark, a tightness in his fuel pump. They’d lost hours trying to catch a meal for an alien animal. They- _He_ could not do that again. It was too great a risk, no matter how the thought of leaving Cute ‘n’ Furry behind made his spark ache.

“We should stop,” Bluestreak said when the first of the suns was nearing its apex.

Routine took over. Bluestreak set up the converter as always, and Soundwave laid on the ground with the fish an arm’s length away. There was also less underbrush, so he held out hope that he could perhaps catch the creature later, and shut his optics to recharge as Bluestreak curled into his side.

~

Soundwave offered a brief prayer to Primus as he carefully, silently rolled over, then rose to his feet. Cute ‘n’ Furry was sleeping in a tight ball of soft tawny fur at the base of a tree. Behind Soundwave, Bluestreak remained unmoving, blue optics bright and intent, respiration held.

At the first touch, the creature panicked, but Soundwave already had hold of it. He purred softly, holding it close to his chest, his hands firm but gentle.

“He only ate half his fish,” Bluestreak said. “Let me get the converter, then I’ll grab that. Messy, but maybe the food will help convince him we don’t want to hurt him.”

Soundwave ignored the scree of claws on metal as the creature struggled and trilled in high, frightened notes. He continued to purr, pacing the area of their camp until Bluestreak was ready to leave, then set off in the direction of their goal.

“Hey, Cutestuff,” Bluestreak said as he caught up. “Don’t be scared. Promise we aren’t going to hurt you, ok? Look, I brought your fish.” He held it up close to Soundwave’s hands, letting Cute ‘n’ Furry get a sniff of it if it was interested.

Soundwave didn’t dare relax his grip, but he shifted a little, rumbling a low, soothing note of his own. The squeals and trills tapered off, though the creature seemed to curl in tighter to itself.

“Poor critter,” Bluestreak cooed. “I know this has gotta be crazy for you, but I promise we’re only trying to help. You won’t belong on Earth, but you don’t belong here either.” He kept the fish offering up and visible to Cute ‘n’ Furry, and babbled on.

Soundwave listened to the sound of Bluestreak’s voice, letting the words wash through him as well, relaxing as best he could as they strode at their top walking pace between the trees.

“Oh, sweet!” Bluestreak all but chirped.

Soundwave looked down, relief sweeping through him. He opened his hands just enough for the creature to reach out and take the fish. He continued to purr, and Bluestreak continued to chatter on, and Cute ‘n’ Furry made an absolute mess of Soundwave’s hands as he devoured the rest of the fish, but once fed, he curled up, a powerful hind leg kicking the bones away, and fell asleep.

“That’s so fragging cute.”

Soundwave nodded. Incredibly cute, but more importantly, calm and in his hands, and they were able to make very good time for the rest of the night. He staunchly refused to worry about having to catch the creature again the following evening, but he would deal with that when the time came.

~ | ~

Morning dawned overcast and grey, a mist hugging the bases of the trees and dulling the green of the grass. Cute ‘n’ Furry was awake, but nestled calmly in the crook of Soundwave’s arm. When it began sniffing and wiggling, Bluestreak offered the second, smaller fish, and grinned as it was taken after only a slight hesitation.

“I think he’s getting it.”

Soundwave looked down at the creature, then nodded. “Tension absent.”

Bluestreak snickered at the understatement. Cute ‘n’ Furry had rolled onto its back and was happily nomming away at the soft belly of the fish. “How do you feel about another hour or so? Maybe we’ll come across a stream or something?”

“Acceptable.”

Snickering more as Soundwave flicked a fin from his hand, Bluestreak turned his optics to the landscape, listening and scanning for water. Only about an hour passed before they found a winding little stream babbling its way toward the now distant river.

Bluestreak frowned up at the sky, but set the converter up anyway. Even one cube was better than nothing. Just in case. He turned to find Soundwave staring off at a bush from where he crouched at the edge of the stream. He followed the Decepticon’s gaze, and noted that Cute ‘n’ Furry had moved off.

“It’s ok. You carried him all night, and even if he wasn’t happy about it at first, catching him once didn’t, like, traumatize him too much.”

Soundwave didn’t seem convinced, but turned back, washing his hands and arms of the fishbits and blood. Bluestreak picked a more or less soft spot in the grass and laid down, waiting as Soundwave shook his arms, then came over to join him.

~

Bluestreak’s internal alarm woke him a good hour before sunset, and found himself already alone. He twisted his helm and spotted Soundwave stretched out on his front, a half-eaten fish between him and a bush that Cute ‘n’ Furry was tucked under. Its eyes gleamed faintly, whiskers moving, and long ears angled forward. The clearing was filled with the low, harmonic tones of some lullaby.

Cute ‘n’ Furry trilled and warbled, and crept forward, ignoring the fish to sniff at Soundwave’s outstretched hand. Bluestreak stalled his respiration, waiting and watching as Soundwave oh so carefully, trapped Cute ‘n’ Furry in his hands. There was a sharp squeal when the creature realized it was caught, but by then Soundwave was standing, and Bluestreak scrambled to get the converter shut down and packed up.

Hours across the stream the land began to change. They were going up and down hills, and the trees were getting farther and farther apart. Even the air smelled different.

“New territory suspected,” Soundwave said, free hand petting Cute ‘n’ Furry’s back in slow strokes.

“What’s that?” Bluestreak asked, pointing into the distance as they crested a rise.

Before them, treeless plains stretched out, and far ahead, something glimmered in the light of the single half-moon.

“Unknown,” Soundwave replied, not breaking his stride.

Bluestreak frowned at it, wondering what new adventure they were walking into now.

~ | ~

Soundwave chewed his lip for a moment, spark pulsing harder. He called to Cute ‘n’ Furry, but to no avail. The last of the suns was setting, and the little animal was just not responding to him.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Bluestreak started, but left the end of his thought hanging.

Soundwave knew, and no, he didn’t want to hear it, but Bluestreak was right. They needed to leave. This was their last night of travel before the rift opened -assuming his calculations were correct- _and_ that their newest fear wasn’t realized. They needed to be moving. That shimmer they had spotted two nights before as they crossed into the new terrain was water. Vast, open, unending water. Bluestreak was calling it an ocean.

Soundwave gave one last call, but there wasn’t even so much as a warble-trill in response. Spark heavy, he turned and began walking.

~

The morning suns were bright, glimmering off the waves as Soundwave and Bluestreak reached the shore.

“Here,” Soundwave said, hearing the trepidation clearly in his own voice. “Right here.” The surf broke over his feet, foaming and making the glittering sand shift under him.

“Frag me.”

What neither of them were willing to say, but both were thinking, was that if they didn’t make it this time, they might never make it back out. They were both startled from their silent staring by a trill.

“Cute ‘n’ Furry!” Bluestreak called, turning toward the creature as it scampered and slid over the sands. “Silly little glitch, you worried us.”

Soundwave felt some of the tension drain away, but not all of it. Cute ‘n’ Furry did help keep their minds off their situation a little, however, by chasing after tiny crustaceans in the surf, but nothing could ease all the fear. Soundwave so desperately wanted to see his creations. He wanted their voices in his mind, their warm little frames tucked safely inside him. He wanted the bickering and whining, the snarking and the laughter. He wanted to show them Cute ‘n’ Furry, and could imagine Rumble and Frenzy in particular enjoying fishing the way humans did it, to catch meals for the animal. He even wanted to see Megatron’s optic ridge arch in curiosity that he wouldn’t speak out loud.

Soundwave wanted to go home.

There was no recharge to be had at all during the day. Soundwave managed to pick up Cute ‘n’ Furry, and then refused to let the creature back down even when it wriggled and squealed at him. He purred and paced, and did his best to ignore how wild he was beginning to feel.

Bluestreak was no better. He would randomly break into bouts of rambling, babbling words, then fall abruptly silent. Sometimes in the middle of a thought. Not that Soundwave was really listening anyway, not with how his own mind was fixed on feeling that energy signal. It would be close.

Primus, please let it be close.

If his calculations were at all correct, it would be-

A sharp trill cut the air, and before Soundwave could stop it, Cute ‘n’ Furry leapt from his arms. “No!” The creature landed with a shockingly loud _thump_ on the ground, but shot off, powerful hind legs kicking up sand as it ran for the water, warble-trill sounding over the waves.

Soundwave gave chase, but then nearly fell when he felt it too.

“Soundwave!”

“Run!” Soundwave shouted, but Bluestreak already was.

Cute ‘n’ Furry squealed as Soundwave scooped him up, barely breaking stride as the rift expanded. The sand shifted beneath the shallow waves, catching at Soundwave’s feet, cold, salty water splashing up around his thighs. Just ahead of him, Bluestreak threw himself forward, the shining tear of light already beginning to shrink. Soundwave tucked Cute ‘n’ Furry close to his chest, and dove too-

Only to fall.

Bluestreak yelped, and Soundwave gasped as he landed hard on one shoulder. They tumbled down the face of a steep, dew-wet, grass-covered hillside, morning sunlight blindingly bright. Soundwave blinked, disoriented, as Bluestreak slid to a stop at his side.

“Frag me.”

Soundwave could only lie there, staring at the sky for a moment, gyros spinning, but then he lifted his helm, carefully checking over the shivering ball of fur in his hands. Cute ‘n’ Furry peeped up at him and gave a tentative warble.

“Is he ok? Are you ok?” Bluestreak asked.

“Affirmative.” Soundwave sat up, and looked around. He wasn’t familiar with the landscape, but there was only one yellow sun in the sky. He carefully reached out to his creations, and-

 _Holy frag, dad! What are you doing back on Earth already?_ Rumble asked, surprise and concern rippling over their connection.

 _Yeah! Everything ok? Fraggin’ ‘Bots didn’t slag things up on Cybertron?_ Frenzy asked, real worry for Soundwave’s wellbeing evident in his tone and the feel of his mind.

Soundwave smiled in relief, pretending his face wasn’t damp under his visor.

 _Creator?_ Ravage chimed in.

 _I am uninjured. Inform Lord Megatron; anomaly experienced. Return to base, then a full report will be submitted._ Minus all the crying and cuddling an Autobot. That would be Soundwave’s secret. He looked over at said Autobot, who was smiling widely, and detected a comm signal.

 _You feel…_ Buzzsaw began, trailing off, unsure.

 _Upset,_ Laserbeak decided.

 _Yeah, dad,_ Rumble agreed. _You sure you’re ok?_

 _I will explain when I return, but I am unharmed. Report to Megatron. Clean our quarters. I expect them to be as they were when I left,_ Soundwave ordered.

 _You have only been gone a single night,_ Ravage said. _They are horrid, but did not slip my control that quickly._

Soundwave blinked, surprised. _Anomaly more intriguing than previously believed. I will be home soon._ He gently withdrew from the link, caressing each of his creations’ minds as he did. He was home. Or near enough.

“Skyfire’s coming to pick me up. Apparently, I’ve been gone, like, a few hours. Crazy slag. You might want to head out though. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings when the others get here.” Bluestreak stood up, smacking at the wet grass that clung to his plating. “Thanks for the truce, and helping me get home. You’re kinda cool, and I think it’s awesome ya love your kids so much. I mean, it’s a side of a Decepticon that none of us get to see, ya know? You’re kinda like us. Like, if you didn’t have that,” he pointed at the insignia on Soundwave’s chest, “I wouldn’t even know.”

Nodding, Soundwave stood too, stroking Cute ‘n’ Furry, but careful to keep hold of the creature. “I will compile the data and send a copy to the Autobots. Collaboration may be required. We were both taken, likelihood of the anomaly repeating; better than average.”

Bluestreak bit his lip, weight shifting as he reached out to scritch Cute ‘n’ Furry’s head between its ears. “Slag, I hope not. But yeah, that’d be good. I’ll let Prime know to expect it and all. Bye, Cutestuff. You be good. Eat lots of fish.”

Soundwave grinned, then shifted to hold the creature close, and launched on his anti-gravs. He hovered, unsure of what to say to express his own gratitude to Bluestreak, so just settled on a respectful nod, then flew toward the _Victory_ and his creations.

**Author's Note:**

> [Cute 'n' Furry by LB82](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7263373/chapters/16491505)


End file.
